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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27092929">sunshine, rain and fields</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/haru_senji/pseuds/haru_senji'>haru_senji</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Gen, Neighbors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 03:27:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27092929</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/haru_senji/pseuds/haru_senji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The walls in Kita’s apartment are really thin, and he’s very worried when he hears his neighbour having a mental breakdown.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kita Shinsuke &amp; Reader, Kita Shinsuke/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>144</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sunshine, rain and fields</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first attempt at a new writing style,, all forms of feedback are appreciated!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spotless white walls. They were barren and painfully clean, just like the room Kita was in. His brown orbs turned to the window, soaking in the sunlight. It was soothing. Soft rays blanketed him, the warmth seeping into his bones. </p><p>The chatter of the family living on his left travelled to his ears. He usually disliked noise, but the contagious giggle of a child lifted the corners of his lips. He could live with this, he guessed. At least the unit to his right was empty. </p><p>He’d never stepped a single foot out of Hyogo after he’d graduated. “But Kita-san!” Atsumu had exclaimed. “Ya have so much potential! Yer so - so - awesome!” Suna had rolled his eyes at his teammate’s limited range of vocabulary. </p><p>Kita had given them one of his rare smiles, shocking them, then pointed to their black banner. “Remember how I don’t like this?”</p><p>The blonde quickly nodded, along with Suna and Osamu, who were listening in. </p><p>The smile turned rueful. “I cherish those memories, Atsumu. They’re happy. Why would I throw them away?”</p><p>He’d never delete the camera roll of his life. Snaps of scenes played in his mind. His grandmother teaching him to cook. The first day he met Aran. Welcoming the chaotic twins into the volleyball club. Morning jogs filled with energetic shouts. The day he got his captain jersey. The day they lost to Karasuno. This was the land he was birthed upon, the land his grandmother raised him on, the land where he’d laughed, where he’d cried. </p><p>He didn’t know what to feel, turning his gaze from the window to the blank canvas of a ceiling. This … was somewhere completely new. He didn’t know the villagers here. He’d loved to have stayed in his own small area, but there wasn’t a rice field nearby. Besides, there was nothing keeping him there anymore. </p><p>His grandmother had gone to live with the gods. </p><p><em>Enough daydreaming,</em> he chided himself. <em>It’s already been five minutes. </em></p><p>He got up and started unpacking the neatly stacked boxes. </p><p>✁・・・</p><p>You were here to escape. From Tokyo, from your mind, from the useless you that you hated. Tokyo invaded your head space with the hasty whirring of trains and the rude honks of cars and never-ending comparison and pressure. You felt like you’d go mad and become one of those soulless people wandering from the office to home, home to office. </p><p>You just wanted to disappear. </p><p>So here you were in the sweltering heat, in a village on the edge of Hyogo. You craned your neck to peer into the house two units to your left. The door was wide open, no sign of anyone guarding it. There was a television, the old square kind, crackling with black and white static before transitioning to cartoons, also monotone. The unit directly next to you had its door closed, its deadpanned stare fixed on you. </p><p>The sun smoldered above your head, but it did nothing to irritate you. You felt free. The friendly wind playing with your hair, the birds serenading, the old lady waving. </p><p>
  <em>No one can get to me here. </em>
</p><p>Unpacking didn’t take long. Your new house was … minimalistic, if not boring. The walls were awfully blank, though. They could use some colour. You were about to take a shower when a knock sounded. </p><p>
  <em>Oh no. No no no. </em>
</p><p>The unknown knuckles rapped the door again, twice. You swallowed your beating heart, then shakily turned the doorknob.</p><p>You were met with a smile as bright as the afternoon sun, belonging to a middle-aged woman with dimples and a pink apron. Your smile was stapled on your face, <em>ah, what is she going to say?</em> not daring to drop an inch, as she welcomed you and invited you over for dinner, <em>oh, oh.</em> You nodded woodenly, <em>her name is Himari-san, Himari-san, Himari-san,</em> assuring her that you would come, like a puppet controlled by some unknown forces. </p><p>It wasn’t until the hot water hit your back that you cursed your racing thoughts and rash promise. </p><p>✁・・・</p><p>At 5 p.m. sharp, Kita took off his straw hat and wiped the pearls of perspiration off his face. The sun burned a searing orange, and his chocolate eyes melted beneath its fiery rays. </p><p>“Good work today as usual, Shinsuke-kun!”  Fuji-san, the father of the family who lived next to him, patted him on his back. </p><p>Kita nodded. “It’s what I should do.” </p><p>Fuji-san let out a hearty laugh. The two men took off their farming gear at a tiny shed and trudged towards the small building that housed their homes. </p><p>“Did ya hear about our new neighbour, Shinsuke-kun?” </p><p>Kita blinked. “No, I haven’t. Are they going to move into the unit next to me?” </p><p>Fuji-san nodded. “Yep, pretty sure Himari’s going to ask them over for dinner with us. It might be their only chance to meet ya!”</p><p>Kita nodded, contemplating Fuji-san’s words. A new neighbour. He didn’t particularly have any preferences, as long as they weren’t too noisy. He woke at 4 a.m. to go to the field, then came back at 5 p.m., only to eat dinner and go to sleep at 9 p.m. It was only today, Sunday, that Himari-san would ask him over for dinner. Ichiko, Fuji-san and Himari-san’s daughter, had taken to him. ‘Kita-san! Kita-san!’ would ring from the child’s pretty mouth whenever she saw the mop of black-tipped hair. </p><p>It had become a routine. Kita appreciated that. The Fuji family were orderly, or as orderly as they could get with a 4 year old. Everything started and ended on the dot. Kita felt like he was in high school again. A feeling he’d missed. </p><p>Kita gave Fuji-san a small smile as the older man patted his belly, images of his wife’s delicacies floating into his mind. </p><p>He wondered what the new neighbour was like. </p><p>✁・・・</p><p>He was like a breath of air whistling through the window on a rainy Tokyo afternoon. No, not freezing. You didn’t think he was cold, even though he never smiled your way the entire duration of dinner. Maybe it was the way he wordlessly put on the friendship bracelets little Ichiko made him. Maybe it was the way he let her cling to his leg. Maybe it was the way he picked her up and swung her around whenever she reached out her arms. </p><p>His eyes held the remaining rays of warmth from the sun that sank hours ago. He felt steady, like the pitter-patter of droplets as they bounced off the windowsill and the leaves of your plants. He felt warm, like the duvet that clung to your figure as you attempted to draw the rain. </p><p>It was scary. How could someone you’d just met feel so intimate? Why do his plain brown eyes look like they held all the answers to the unfathomable enigmas of the universe?</p><p>“Y/N, this is Kita Shinsuke.”</p><p>Face as still as the surface of a lake in the deep forests, but eyes like a crackling stormy day. Kita felt like he could drown in your eyes. Ichiko liked you. Her tiny hand tugged at his little finger, pulling him towards you. She then hugged your leg, beaming up at you as you ruffled her hair. </p><p>You felt like the clear stream a little ways from his grandmother’s house. He used to go there every afternoon, not to catch fish like the other children, but to soak his legs in the ever-running water and watch the scaled creatures. Something about you made his heart feel light, worries blown away by the breeze.</p><p>Your constantly shuffling feet and the frequent crack of your knuckles every few minutes broke him out of his trance. </p><p>“Kita, this is L/N Y/N.”</p><p>He bowed to you, and you bowed back. </p><p>Dinner was pleasant. He liked your table manners. You liked how he chewed without noise. He liked how you offered to do the dishes even though you obviously looked like you’d rather go home right this second. You liked how he did the dishes and waved his hand for you to go. </p><p>You both wanted to see more of each other. </p><p>✁・・・</p><p>And you did. You had to have a source of income, after all. You couldn’t spend all your days in your room with your paints and feelings. So here you were at the field, blinking into a pair of soil-coloured eyes, the both of you wearing matching straw hats. </p><p>You were diligent. He liked that. You weren’t afraid of getting your hands and pants dirty, and your fingers worked wonders on the plants. He was quiet. You liked that. You didn’t want to make conversation while concentrating. Soon, the sun was vertically above your head, and everyone took a break for lunch. </p><p>The both of you simultaneously headed to the nearby stream and sat wordlessly by the bank, the sunlight adding glitter to the running water. You’d brought bread with you, one for yourself, the other for the fishes. </p><p>“You like them?” Kita’s sudden voice shot through your heart like an arrow. </p><p>You turned slightly to see him munching on homemade onigiri.</p><p>“Umm, yes,” you managed. “Yeah. They’re calming to look at. I love how their tails and fins move.”</p><p>Kita smiled a little. You were interesting. He didn’t know how to catch fish, but he still rolled up his pants and stepped into the water after he consumed all his food. You watched, eyes wide, as he splashed around, hands slipping off the lithe bodies of the aquatic pixies. </p><p>Your tinkling laugh rang through the air. He looked childish. His stoic manner had been ingrained into your brain, but the image shattered and was replaced with the gold in his eyes as he gave you a bucket with your happiness in it. It was replaced by light gasps as the two of you walked miles to go to a pet store. It was replaced with his knitted brows as he tried to pick an aquarium befitting your pride and joy. </p><p>Kita Shinsuke was the embodiment of happiness itself. </p><p>✁・・・</p><p>It was on a stormy night, as cliche as it might seem. </p><p>You’d deleted all your social media, but you still needed to have art supplies and new paper and fish food delivered to your house. That was why you still had your phone. If you’d known that this would happen, you’d have thrown it away. </p><p>You’d changed your number, hadn’t you? You’d said goodbye, hadn’t you? You’d left it all behind, hadn’t you? So why was everything crashing down on you like a tsunami now, as your shaking hands answered the call on reflex?</p><p>Kita could hear screams. Not yours. He knew you well enough to know that you’d never raise your voice. Ever. The walls were paper thin, he knew the first night he was here, when Ichiko stubbed her toe and it felt like she was bawling right next to him. He strained his ears to hear.</p><p>“… you good for nothing, failure of a child!”</p><p>He winced, the half-knitted blanket in his hand forgotten. The rambling from the disembodied voice continued for a good 15 minutes, then was cut off with the dull beep of the end call button. </p><p>Then he heard it. </p><p>He was out of his door in seconds, palm banging on yours. You were up on your feet too, wishing, hoping, that it was him. </p><p>The arms that pulled you to his chest assured you that it was. </p><p>He led you inside. Both of you sitting on the couch, he caught your tears with his thumb like they were gold. His hands held you like you were a masterpiece, the one and only in the world. Just seconds ago, you were convinced you were trash. That was what your parents had always told you. That art was garbage, and the person creating it even more so. </p><p>Kita was the only vessel that managed to sail past the violent waves inside you. The only person who parted the clouds and saw the stars. His hands were warm as they intertwined with your shaking ones. Thunder boomed, but he didn’t flinch. Time marched on, but he didn’t leave.  </p><p>“Kita-san.”</p><p>“Shinsuke,” he corrected.</p><p>You relaxed, melting even more into his embrace. His breath fanned the strand of hair that always seemed to be falling in front of your face. </p><p>“Shinsuke. Why are you here?”</p><p>“To give back.” You inclined your head. You’d expected a more prolonged answer. He stared right back, unblinking. </p><p>“To give back to the land. To nurture it, tend to it, love it like it has always loved me. And give back to the people who were always with me. People need food to live. So why not grow it for them?”</p><p>The tick-tock continued, filling the silence, before your voice melded with it too. </p><p>“Do you know why I’m here?”</p><p>Kita hummed his response. “I think I do.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“I won’t ever let you go back. It will just be you, me, the sun, the rain, and the field.”</p><p>✁・・・</p><p>“Do you want to paint the walls?” he whispered, voice barely audible as the rain fell mercilessly. The hands of the clock ticked closer to 3 a.m.</p><p>“Mmm.”</p><p>“Do you want to paint mine too?”</p><p>“You’d let me?”</p><p>“Mmm.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>You needn’t say more. Unsaid words dangled in the air, and he reached out to catch them, to listen to them, to know. </p><p><em>Thank you.</em> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on Tumblr <a href="https://haru-senji.tumblr.com/">@haru-senji</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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